


A Woman's Work

by JJJunky



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 12:10:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJJunky/pseuds/JJJunky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paris, Janeway, and Kim are captured on an alien planet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Woman's Work

A Woman's Work  
By JJJunky

 

The shuttlecraft bucked, sluing to the right as though it'd been pushed by a giant hand. Skilled fingers flew across the controls as Paris attempted to stabilize their descent. "Hang on," he advised his passengers, "it looks like we're in for a rough ride."

"It'll be worth it if the sensor readings Tuvok got are accurate," Janeway observed, hanging tightly to the armrests of her chair. "Dilithium would go a long way toward solving our energy problems."

A door to one of the storage compartments burst open. The contents slid from their birth and crashed against the opposite bulkhead. As the shuttled tilted, they rolled back.

Though he didn't let the noise distract him enough to affect his performance, it was obvious that Paris was aware of the beating the craft was taking. "We'll find those crystals, Captain, if the ship doesn't fall apart first."

"We've drifted two degrees off course," Harry Kim alertly pointed out.

"I'm not surprised." Sweat beading his brow, Paris demanded, "Which way do I need to turn to compensate?"

"Starboard."

"Let me know when we're back on course."

As she watched the two young men perform their duties, Janeway felt a sense of pride. Though only on his first assignment, Kim had executed his duties with outstanding ability, often seeming more experienced than his years would suggest. The only reminder of his immaturity was his frequent bouts of homesickness.

Paris on the other hand appeared to be in his element. Necessity and his own performance during their encounter with the Caretaker had conspired to give him a second chance. The course of recent events had made the Tom Paris created by an unfortunate mistake and an insensitive Starfleet board disappear. The replacement was less cynical, yet equally as talented. Janeway was happy the other had been left behind.

"You better slow your speed," Kim suggested, scanning the panel in front of him. "I read a solid object twenty kilometers ahead."

"It would sure help if I could see something," Paris complained, as the shuttle perceptively slowed.

Janeway leaned forward trying to catch a glimpse of the instruments, "How much further to the target?"

"Just over twenty kilometers, Captain," Kim absently replied.

"Then that solid object you're reading appears to be our mine," Janeway thoughtfully noted. "I suggest you start looking for a suitable landing site, Mr. Kim."

"Sounds good to me," Paris breathlessly contributed.

Except for the escaped objects rolling around the cabin, silence reigned. Their quest was too important to fail. Despite the gas storms that made the planet practically uninhabitable, it appeared to be their likeliest prospect to combat the Voyager's energy shortage. Janeway could barely contain her excitement. The evanescent odor of roasted coffee beans tickled her nostrils.

"I've found a place," Kim said. "It'll put us almost directly on top of the target."

"Well done, Mr. Kim," praised Janeway.

"Give me a bearing," Paris requested, exhaustion dampening his enthusiasm.

Kim's hands flew across the console as he verified his readings, "Four-two-four mark six."

Despite the storms buffeting the shuttle, Paris maneuvered the vessel down with a deceptive ease. Only a gently bump, less violent than they'd been experiencing during the flight, confirmed their arrival.

Rising form her seat, Janeway put a hand on the slumped shoulder of her tired pilot, "I'll see you get an extra replicator chit for this, Mr. Paris."

"My stomach would be very grateful," Paris acknowledged. "It doesn't always appreciate Neelix's gastronomical concoctions."

Janeway smiled, "If we find what we need, I think all our stomachs will be grateful."

"I tried to contact Voyager to let them know we landed safely, Captain," Kim said, punching disgustedly at the communication controls. "I couldn't get through."

"We suspected that would occur," Janeway calmly reminded the young ensign. "How far are we from the target?"

"2.2 kilometers."

"Atmosphere content?"

"It's breathable," Kim explained, "but, the air is full of ammonia and debris. While our uniforms should protect our bodies, I suggest we use face masks to prevent the gases from affecting our lungs."

"Agreed," Janeway replied, already moving to the storage compartment to breakout the equipment. When they were protectively garbed, she pressed the button to open the door to the outside where an opaque world greeted them. Dust mixed with pieces of granite filled the air caught in ceaseless eddies.

Sweeping his tricorder in an arc, Kim stopped when it registered the reading he was seeking. Pointing, he led the way stopping only when he encountered a mountain of dirt and stone. "The dilithium is approximately 1.2 kilometers straight ahead, Captain."

"We can't dig that far with the equipment we've got," Janeway reasoned. "It's possible that are caves that could bring us closer to the deposit. We'll split up and look for an opening. Since our comm badges aren't working, we'll meet back her in half an hour. Mr. Paris, you take the left. Mr. Kim and I will go to the right."

"Good luck," Paris said, disappearing into the swirling gas clouds.

* * * *

Chakotay stared out at the shrouded planet. What secrets did it hide? He had to consciously refrain from drumming his fingers. Every time Janeway led an away team, he fought an internal battle of desire over duty. While he respected her for assuming the danger inherent in every mission, it also made him nervous. Frequent discussions with his animal guide were necessary during the period she was gone.

It was at these times that the rebel he'd been forced to bury when he became the Voyager's first officer, cried out for release. With the passage of time the voice was getting softer. The growing friendship with his Captain was helping to smooth those rough edges.

It was partially because Paris had Janeway's support that Chakotay had even started regarding the Lieutenant in a different light. The resentment he'd once felt diminished a little each day. Sometimes, Chakotay sensed a different entity inhabiting the physical body of Thomas E. Paris. This new Paris was nothing like the one he'd known in the Maquis. This one deserved his respect rather than his resentment.

"Commander," Tuvok called, from his security station, "Long range sensors have detected a ship at six-one-one-mark-seven. It's moving toward us."

"Put it on screen."

A speck of light floated against the black velvet background. The only thing that distinguished it from the stars was the speed with which it flew.

"Magnify," Chakotay said, leaning forward to try and get a better view of the other ship. In this quadrant it wasn't always easy to tell who was friend and who was foe. An odd triangular shaped vessel filled the screen. Shaking his head in frustration, the first officer ordered, "Raise the shields and get Neelix up here."

* * * *

The fingers of his right hand brushed against the surface of the mountain. It was the only physical contact Paris had in this ethereal world. He could see nothing through the gossamer clouds, so he kept his eyes focused on his tricorder, relying on it to keep him from bumping into any solid objects.

The alarm buzzed warning him that half his allotted time had passed. Seconds later, it registered the opening he'd been searching for. Certain that Janeway wouldn't mind if he was a few minutes late, providing he could report success, he proceeded through the small entrance. The dim light of his tricorder shone off the silvery walls of a tunnel that grew progressively narrower. At one point, he was forced to turn sideways and draw in his breath to continue. He had just decided to turn back, when the tunnel opened into a large room. The top of his head brushed against the low ceiling. His tricorder beeped softly indicating the proximity of the mineral he was seeking.

Eagerly, he turned to retrace his steps when he felt a presence behind him. The sensation had barely registered when a heavy object impacted the back of his head. 

Stars danced in his eyes as he sank to his knees. Though it caused considerable pain to do so, he attempted to swivel his head to confront his attacker. A second blow sent him flying into a wall. His face mask was smashed when it impacted the hard, rocky surface. As he slid to the ground, he sent a silent apology to the Captain he had failed.

* * * *

Janeway checked her chronometer, concern wrinkled her brow. The old Tom Paris might have disregarded her instructions but she was confident the new one wouldn't. "He's in trouble," she muttered, staring blindly in the direction the Lieutenant had taken almost an hour before.

"Maybe he found a tunnel," Kim soothed, nervously manipulating the controls on his tricorder.

"If he had, he would've reported back," Janeway insisted.

"Maybe he's lost."

Janeway didn't even try to hide her disgust at the suggestion, "His tricorder would've prevented such an occurrence."

"Maybe it got broken," Kim hastily suggested, drowning in his own inanity. "Or maybe it's malfunctioned."

"We wont' find any answers standing here," Janeway ultimately decided. "Let's go."

Despite the seeming futility of the action, Janeway kept her eyes focused on the path ahead leaving Kim to monitor the impersonal search conducted by the tricorder. The dust clouds and swirling gases obscured her vision allowing only a limited view ahead. With each step, her hopes of finding Paris uninjured diminished.

"Captain," Kim called, directing his tricorder toward the mountain. "There's an opening here."

"Are you getting any readings that would indicate Mr. Paris went inside?" Janeway demanded, crossing to stand at the ensign's elbow.

"I'm not sure," frustration tinged the low voice. "The readings are confused."

"If Tom found the opening, he would've investigated before reporting back," Janeway reasoned. "We'll take a look."

The tunnel closed in on her as she followed Kim into the darkness. Their only illumination was the small light on the tricorder. Due to its short throw, they were forced to travel at a substantially slower pace.

Eventually, they exited into a large room. The hairs on the nape of Janeway's neck stood on end as her eyes followed the arc of Kim's dim light. Puzzled by the inexplicable reaction, she raised a hand to massage the feeling away. Just as she recognized it as an unconscious warning that they were not alone, both of her arms were enveloped in a bruising grasp. The clatter of his tricorder encountering the hard floor told of a similar fate befalling Ensign Kim.

When a bright light suddenly flooded the room, Janeway closed her eyes to keep it from blinding her. She let them gradually reopen as they adjusted to the unexpected brilliance. A few feet in front of her, Kim uneasily stood between two short slimly built men. The prominence of the bone structure told a story of the rarity of food one could discover on such a planet as this. Ragged holes in the animal hides that covered dirty flesh showed red blotches on a pale pink skin. They appeared to be characteristic of the species along with the almost flat noses and close set eyes.

Willing herself not to struggle against her captor, Janeway courageously addressed the man holding a blazing reed in one hand and a heavy stone club in the other. It was evident by his demur that he was the leader. "We mean you no harm."

"What do you want?" The reply was dilatory as though the translator was having difficulty deciphering the words.

"We're looking for minerals important to our people," Janeway explained. "We became separated from one of our number and came here looking for him."

"You could be one with the Conslavtees."

Janeway wasn't sure who the Conslavtees were but, from the fear she saw reflected on the alien faces, she had a feeling she didn't want to find out. "We don't come from around here." This information was obvious by their appearance. She knew she wasn't defying the Prime Directive by admitting to the palpable truth.

"Put them with the other," the skeptical leader ordered.

Relieved of her tricorder, face mask and phaser, Janeway was pushed down a long, wide tunnel that snaked to the left of the room where they'd been captured. Her mind constantly reviewed options for their escape. However, she needed more information before she was willing to jeopardize their first contact with a new species.

The air grew colder and fresher as they dropped deeper into the earth. Janeway gratefully filled her lungs purging them of the ammonia that she'd inhaled when her face mask had been taken. the tunnel ended abruptly at the face of a large boulder.

One of Kim's guards released his hold and crossed to a stout stick leaning in a dark corner. With an unexpected strength, he used the rod as a lever to roll the rock away from a narrow opening. Pushed inside the small room, Janeway felt the boulder brush her trailing foot as it was pushed back into position. Even though she knew the action would be futile, she pressed against the rock face. As she'd know it would, it refused to budge.

"Tom!"

Kim's cry drew Janeway's attention to a shadowy corner of the enclosure. Sprawled on his back, her helmsman lay unmoving, oblivious to their arrival. Kneeling on the rocky ground, she gently inspected the limp body for wounds. Her search ended at the back of his head where she found two large lumps surrounded by drying blood.

"How bad do you think he is?" Kim anxiously inquired, from his position on the other side of the body.

Janeway hesitated before admitting, "I'm not sure but, it doesn't look good."

A groan refocused her attention on the injured man. Gently laying a hand on a soft cheek to keep the head immobile, she cautioned, "Easy, Tom, don't dry to move."

The bright blue eyes opened to stare dazedly up at his companions. The tip of Paris' tongue swept along dry lips, "What hit me?"

"I suspect it was a stone club. It seems to be our captor's favorite weapon." Her voice sympathetic, Janeway asked, "Do you feel up to telling us what happened?"

"Not much to tell. I found an opening and decided to investigate before returning for the rendezvous. I was slugged when my back was turned."

Kim helped his friend struggle to a sitting position. "What do you think they'll do with us?"

"I don't know," Janeway admitted, her anxious gaze fixed on her wounded crewman. "They seemed pretty afraid of those Conslavtees but, I'm not sure if that's a point in our favor or not."

A loud crack echoed through the room as the boulder was pushed aside announcing the return of their captors. The one Janeway had come to regard as the leader stepped into the enclosure, "Who is your headman?"

Janeway gently squeezed Paris' shoulder before rising to her feet, "I am."

A sound that closely resembled laughter filled the room. "A woman can not be a headman," the leader disgustedly snorted.

"Maybe they aren't in your tribe," Janeway said, fighting her anger, "but, it occurs often where I come from."

"If this were true that place would be very backward."

"I assure you it's not."

Ignoring Janeway's avowal, the leader turned to Paris and Kim, "Which of you is the headman?"

"I am," Paris declared, almost losing consciousness as he struggled to his feet. 

"Tom!" Janeway protested, crossing to support her swaying officer.

The leader waved a hand. Two of the guards immediately moved to his side, "Take him."

"No!" Janeway and Kim tried to fight off the advancing guards even as Paris shook off their support. A single step forward put him into the seeking arms of his captors.

The leader easily held off the angry Starfleet officers as Paris was dragged from the cell. A snort of laughter would escape the squashed nose every time his eyes rested on Janeway. What looked like a smile split the thin lips as he slipped through the narrow opening and replaced the boulder.

Dismissing the pain it caused, Janeway pounded her fists against the rocky barrier, "Listen to me, I'm the Captain. I'm in charge."

"You'll never make them believe that," Kim gently observed, putting a hand on his superior's forearm to stop her needless protest. "Actually, it may work to our advantage."

"How do you mean?" Janeway demanded, choking back tears of frustration and rage.

"They don't see you as a threat," Kim derisively smiled. "They'll learn how wrong they are - the hard way."

* * * *

A rhythmic tapping of fingers rose above the soft hum of the equipment. The noise ceased with the opening of the turbolift doors. Chakotay turned to regard the short stout figure who emerged.

Anger was clearly visible on the alien face. "This better be good," Neelix snapped, flashing eyes fixed on the first officer. "An interruption like this could ruin my moklabee."

If the puce paste crusting on the Talaxian's fingers was a sample of the spoiled dish, Chakotay was glad he'd been forced to call the chef to the bridge. Nodding toward the viewscreen, he asked, "What can you tell us about that?"

His resentment vanished as Neelix caught sight of the triangular shaped vessel, "Oh, my!"

"Could you be a little more specific?" Tuvok dispassionately requested.

"That's a Conslavtee ship," Neelix explained, as though that information alone told the entire story.

Chakotay rose from his command chair and crossed to the Talaxian's side, "Are they considered hostile?"

"You could say that," Neelix dazedly agreed, backing away as though to put as much distance as possible between himself and the other vessel. "It's a slave ship. Conslavtees travel the quadrant looking for slaves to work their mines. Unless you're looking to change careers, Commander, I suggest we get the hell out of here."

"We can't do that," Chakotay revealed, "the Captain is still on the surface of the planet."

"Then I suggest you get her back up here, now!"

"A communications beam can't penetrate the electromagnetic storms in the atmosphere."

Reducing the magnification of the vessel that would dwarf a galaxy class starship, Tuvok inquired, "Do you know anything about the Conslavtees weapons system?"

"I never stuck around long enough to find out," Neelix admitted.

Chakotay returned to his command chair. His eyes never straying from the viewscreen, he said, "It looks like you're going to get an answer, this time."

"I wasn't the one who asked the question," Neelix wailed.

* * * *

Paris was glad that his guards kept a firm grip on his upper arms, he wasn't sure he could've stayed on his feet without their support. Even when they passed through the narrowest section of the tunnel leading to the outside, they were careful to retain their hold. As if, Paris mentally sneered, he had the strength to try to escape.

Just ahead, Paris could hear the debris laden wind striking the rocky barrier. He coughed almost choking as ammonia burned his lungs. When they stepped from the protection of the tunnel, he let his eyelids droop. The action blocked his vision but, it also shielded the sensitive orbs. Grit slammed into the tender flesh of his unprotected face and hands as he was dragged along. The pounding in his head was almost forgotten in the wake of this new discomfort.

"You fly us away from conslavtees."

Cupping his eyes with a bleeding hand, Paris opened them enough to find that they were standing at the bow of the shuttlecraft. Obviously these people weren't as primitive as their appearance suggested. Not only had they somehow discovered the shuttle without the aid of a tricorder, they even knew if was aerodynamic.

"Open ship," the leader impatiently instructed, poking his captive in the ribs.

The blow sent Paris into a coughing fit. When he finally had a semblance of control, he gasped, "I can't do that."

"Your ship. You fly," the other man insisted, emphasizing his request with a bruising thump to Paris' chest.

It took a little longer for Paris to recover this time. When he did, he shook his head, "We have this policy called the Prime Directive. I can't help you."

At a signal from his leader, the guard gripping Paris' left arm shifted his hold. Fingers of steel clamped around a vulnerable wrist and twisted the arm until Paris could hear bone grating against bone. Repeated demands that he fly them away were barked into his ear. Even if he'd wanted to respond, he was no longer capable of doing so. Pain had become the focus of his being. It flared and receded like an ocean tide - until it drowned him.

* * * *

Janeway knew it was wasting energy to pace out her frustration in the small enclosure but, even that logic couldn't stop her. For it was guilt as well as fear that pumped the adrenaline into her blood stream making it impossible for her to relax. She was the leader. Somehow, she should've been able to convince their captors. She, not Paris, should've been taken.

"He didn't do it for you, you know."

The familiar voice dragged Janeway from the horrors conjured by a contrite conscience. Puzzled by Kim's statement, she asked, "Do what?"

"Tom didn't sacrifice himself to save you. He was trying to protect me." Tortured brown eyes rose to meet his superior's, "He knew they would never believe you were the Captain. It had to be him or me. He could die because I was to slow to speak."

Kneeling in front of the tormented young officer, Janeway put a soothing hand on his knee, "Don't denigrate his sacrifice with self-pity, Harry. Tom did what he wanted to do, what he couldn't do at Caldik Prime. He saved a friend's life."

The sound of the boulder being pushed away from the opening brought both officers to their feet. Red blood glistening on the end of the stone club he yielded, the leader pointed it at Janeway, "You come."

As Janeway unhesitatingly followed her captor, Kim stepped forward, "What do you want with her?"

"Time eat."

The answer was far from reassuring. Janeway could see her own apprehension reflected on the Ensign's face. Did they mean they were going to feed her? Or, was she going to be the main course? Led down another tunnel leading off the central chamber, she tried to keep her imagination from running rampant. Speculation was useless, especially when the answers would be supplied all too soon.

Rounding a curve into a dimly lit room, Janeway almost gagged on the odor. She involuntarily stepped backward, her eyes watering. The stained club pressed into her back pushing her further into the room.

"Time eat. You woman. You cook."

Anger flared inside Janeway almost blinding her with its power. A bruising blow to her left shoulder drove her to her knees.

"Woman cook."

With a bitter glare, Janeway swallowed her pride. Rising to her feet, she crossed to the small pieces of raw meat laying on a smooth tablet. The stench was almost overwhelming. Trying to breath through her mouth, she let her eyes roam around the room. She gasped in shocked recognition as her gaze fell upon their phasers and tricorders carelessly discarded in a dark corner. Quickly returning her attention to her duties, she hummed softly trying to project the submissive attitude them seemed to expect from her.

Since she'd never prepared a meal in this manner, she tried to recall Neelix's actions and copied them. Burying her disgust, she pounded the meat with a large stone. Measured steps moved her closer to the forgotten weapons. Harry had been right, due to her sex they were underestimating her.

Finally, when she was as close as she could get and still maintain the pretense of tenderizing the meat, she made her move. With a speed that caught her guard unprepared, she dove for a phaser. Rolling onto her back, she prayed the setting was still on stun and pressed the trigger. The club clattered to the floor near her head, followed by its unconscious owner.

Scrambling to her feet, she found a discarded piece of blood stained cloth and fashioned a bag to carry the other phasers and tricorders. Though she searched every corner, the face masks were nowhere to be found. A quick glance into the dimly lit corridor showed an empty tunnel. Now, all she had to do was find her way back to Kim.

* * * *

Colors flare against the viewscreen dissipating slowly. Before the last hue disappeared the brilliance would be reignited repeating the spectacle for it audience.

"No damage," Tuvok unnecessarily reported. "Shields are holding."

"What's going on?" Neelix nervously demanded, his eyes seeking Tuvok's unruffled visage before settling on Chakotay.

"The conslavtees are firing on us," the first officer calmly explained.

"That leaves us with two options," Neelix said, counting the alternatives on puce colored fingers, "fire back or get the hell out of here."

Chakotay skillfully manipulated the controls on the console situated between the command chairs, "There's a third option. We can try to talk to them."

"The Conslavtees are not know for their verbal skills," Neelix protested.

The shields absorbed another blast from the other vessel. Chakotay didn't need a report from his security officer to know there was no damage. If this was the highest setting the other ship could achieve, they were no thereat to the Federation starship. Turning, he addressed the ensign who'd replaced Kim in operations, "Any luck raising the Conslavtees, Hill?'

"No, sir," the young woman returned. "I think they're reading us, they just refuse to respond."

"As I said," Neelix triumphantly crowed, "the Conslavtees don't talk much."

"At least they put on a pretty show," Chakotay pointed out, his eyes focused on the viewscreen where another blast to their shields flared into radiant color.

* * * *

The echo of footsteps drove Janeway through a narrow opening. A diffused glow from the blazing reds in the tunnel lit the empty room. Since they'd been captured, she'd only seen four men. The three remaining guards would be no match for her phaser - if that was all there were. Uncertainty kept her vigilant.

A darker shadow along the back wall drew her attention. Thinking she might find the missing face masks, she cautiously approached. As her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, she saw that it was a body. Hope flared in her heart while fear filled her soul. Kneeling next to the crumpled figure, she put a shaking hand against the bruised and bleeding neck of her helmsman. She almost cried when the soft throbbing of the carotid artery met her seeking fingers.

"Tom?" When there was no response to her plea, Janeway gently caressed the battered cheek and tried again, "Tom, can you hear me?"

This time a low groan greeted her query. Encouraged, Janeway said, "I've got the phasers and the tricorders. I'm going to release Harry. We'll be right back for you. Hang on, you'll be in sickbay before you know it."

"Careful . . . Captain . . ."

Janeway had to put her ear practically on his bruised mouth to hear what Paris was saying.

" . . . not . . . primitive . . . as look."

Though she was tempted to leave Paris a phaser, Janeway realized that even if he had the strength to pull the trigger, the torn and swollen hands couldn't hold the weight. With a renewed sense of urgency, tempered with caution, she crossed to the entrance. The empty corridor beckoned.

Once she reached the central chamber, she circled the perimeter instead of taking the easier, faster route straight across. She would be no help to her crew dead or recaptured. Staying in the shadows as much as possible, she finally arrived a her former prison.

When an attempt to move the boulder failed, Janeway cautioned Kim to stand back. Adjusting the dial on her phaser to the highest setting, she pointed it at a spot near the opening. A sustained burst burned a hole through the solid rock.

Careful not to touch the hot sides with bare flesh, Harry crawled through to freedom, "Nice to see you, Captain."

Pulling another phaser and a tricorder from her bag, Janeway handed them to the Ensign. As she reset her weapon back to stun, she started to retrace her steps, "Come on, I found Paris."

The journey was easier this time knowing she had someone to watch her back. Just outside the room where she'd left Paris, she stopped and listened for any sign that would warn her that their escape had been discovered. Though there was no sound, she didn't allow her vigilance to lapse.

Inside, she found Paris in exactly the same position she'd left him. Light from Kim's tricorder revealed numerous cuts slashing the pale face. Though they weren't deep, they were obviously painful.

"He's got some broken ribs and a broken left arm, Captain," Kim cautioned, before closing his tricorder and putting it away.

"We can't do anything for him here," Janeway regretfully noted, putting her shoulder under the injured man's arm. "We'll have to get him back to the ship."

As they lifted Paris to his feet, a groan greeted their efforts announcing his return to consciousness. The dead weight that had pulled at their shoulders eased slightly as unsteady legs took some of the burden.

"Easy, Tom," Janeway soothed, tightening her grip. "You're not strong enough to solo."

Glazed eyes tried to focus on his superior. Words of warning slurred from the torn lips, "Careful . . . Captain . . . they found shuttle . . . know what for . . . tried get me . . . fly them off . . . world."

"They look like primitive cavemen," Kim protested. "How could they know about space flight and other worlds?"

Paris stumbled almost pulling himself and his rescuers to the floor.

"We don't have time to worry about that now," Janeway said, panting slightly. "Let's get moving."

One arm supported her helmsman, while the other yielded a phaser. Tempering her desire to get Paris medical treatment with caution, Janeway glanced out into the corridor. Finding it empty, she motioned Kim forward. Keeping a constant vigil, they slowly made their way through the maze of tunnels.

The sound of the debris laden wind was met with gratitude and dismay. Within the obscurity of the opaque world they could make their escape. However, without the protection of the face masks their flesh would become riddled with pieces of granite, while the swirling gases burned their lungs. They couldn't turn back, there was no where to return to.

Conversation was impossible. Trusting Kim's tricorder readings, Janeway put her head down and blindly followed her operation's officer's lead. A sharp piece of rock slashed a cut under her right eye making her flinch. She no longer had to wonder how Paris had gotten into the condition in which they'd found him.

Their discovery of the shuttle could be attributed to luck as much as science. Kim's warning came only seconds before they bumped into it. About to holster her weapon, Janeway remembered Paris' warning. While Kim opened the panel to activate the door, she shielded her eyes and scanned the area. Two forms took shape rushing toward them. Throwing Paris' weight onto Kim, she aimed her phaser and fired. The two bodies had barely hit the ground when three more figures appeared.

"Get Tom inside," Janeway ordered, turning her attention to the new threat.

Five bodies littered the ground with more materializing all around her. Her heart beat faster as she methodically squeezed the trigger. The first sign that Kim had returned was when a stone club skimmed past her shoulder instead of impacting her head. The unconscious attacker fell at her feet.

His phaser flashing in unison with her own, Kim urged, "Come on, Captain."

Continuing to lay down fire, Janeway backed into the shuttle. She kept shooting even as the doors started to close. Clubs smashed against the hull demanding entrance.

Once sealed safely inside, Janeway holstered her phaser. Now that adrenalin had ceased to enhance her senses, she found it difficult to breath. Her lungs burning from their flight through the ammonia filled air, she asked, "How's Paris?"

"He's unconscious again," Kim replied, concern furrowing his brow.

"See what you can do for him." Her eyes briefly rested on her injured officer, anxiety could be easily read in their depths. "I'll get us out of here."

Opening the medical kit, Kim pulled out a medicated pad and began to gently wipe blood from the slashed face, "When you wake up, my friend, you and I are going to have a long talk."

As she made her way to the pilot's seat, Janeway found herself smiling. She had a feeling that by the time Kim got done abrading his colleague for his heroic action, Paris was going to wish he was back on the planet.

* * * *

"Commander," Tuvok called, the tone of his voice drawing the first officer's immediate attention, "sensors have picked up the shuttlecraft."

"Can you raise them?" Chakotay demanded, addressing his operations officer.

"No, sir," Hill replied, her fingers pounding at the buttons on her console. "It appears as though whatever caused the interference on the planet has attached itself to the shuttle."

"The Conslavtees have noticed the shuttlecraft's approach and are changing course to intercept," Tuvok announced.

"Extend our shields to cover them." Turning to Paris' replacement, Chakotay ordered, "Helm, keep us between the Conslavtee ship and the shuttle."

"I'll try, sir, considering their size it won't be easy."

"Do your best."

A slight rising of an eyebrow was the only sign of Tuvok's distress, "One of the life sign readings on the shuttle is very faint."

"Somebody's hurt," Chakotay interpreted.

"They won't be able to dock with the shields up," Tuvok unnecessarily pointed out. "The same interference that's causing the communications blackout also prevents us from using the transporters."

Chakotay's sad gaze rested on the Conslavtee ship. "No more time to talk. Let's see what they think of an old Indian custom called counting coup. Mr. Tuvok fire a shot across their bow. Make sure it's close enough for them to feel it, but not to hurt them."

"Understood, Commander," Tuvok acknowledged, even as a bolt of light flashed across the viewscreen. "Though I must admit I do not understand your reference to counting coup."

"You will," Chakotay confidently replied.

If it hadn't been for his concern for the crew of the shuttlecraft, Chakotay would've enjoyed the results of the old Indian defensive maneuver. Enemy fire ceased immediately. Challenged by a stronger opponent, the other ship turned with an ungainly speed and ran.

"Lower shields and bring the shuttle on board. Have Kes meet me in the shuttled bay with an anti-grav unit," Chakotay ordered, as he headed for the turbolift. "Mr. Tuvok, you have the bridge."

Though the lift covered the distance faster than he could've on foot, Chakotay impatiently paced the small area. Who was so badly hurt the life signs barely registered? What would he do if it was Janeway?"

The bay had just started to re-pressurize when he arrived. Kes was already waiting, concerned eyes focused on the battered craft.

"Do you know who's hurt, Commander?" she asked, her deep voice quivering slightly. 

"There was too much interference to get precise readings."

"When I decided to study medicine, I never thought about how I'd feel when one of my friend's lives was in my hands."

Not for the first time, Chakotay wished there was a counselor on board. He had no words to comfort the young woman.

The doors snapped open indicating that it was safe to enter the shuttle bay. Long legs carried Chakotay swiftly to the battered craft. Before he'd covered half the distance the shuttle doors swung open revealing a bloodied Janeway. Relief made the normally agile Indian miss a step causing him to twist an ankle. Ignoring the pain, he rushed forward, "Captain?"

"Have Mr. Paris beamed directly to sickbay, Commander," Janeway said, a hacking cough making speech difficult.

"We can't." Chakotay climbed into the shuttle and crossed to the injured officer. Brushing some of the dirt from the torn uniform, he explained, "Whatever this stuff is, it's interfering with the transporter locks."

With Kim's assistance, Chakotay transferred Paris to the anti-grav board and helped Kes maneuver it through the door. As the young Ocampa hurried away with her patient, he was surprised by the extent of his concern. His mind flashed back to a disintegrating staircase on a waterless world. Though fogged by pain, he'd been sharp enough to recognize the danger that threatened him and his rescuer. Yet, Paris hadn't hesitated. Chakotay was alive today because of the bravery of a man he thought he hated. His reaction now told him, that feeling was no longer a part of him.

* * * *

Despite the doctor's assurances that her damaged lungs had been completely regenerated, Janeway hesitated before taking a deep breath. Releasing it slowly, she listened as the sound mixed with the softer, shallower breaths of her fellow patients. Like herself, Kim was being kept in Sickbay overnight for what the doctor called observation. More badly injured, it would take longer for Paris to recover. Regeneration of his lungs and the broken bones would have to be done in stages. But, he would be all right. It was an outcome that had, at times, been doubtful.

The soft hiss of the automatic doors announced the arrival of a visitor. Grateful for any distraction that would banish the dark thoughts haunting her, Janeway sat up in her bed.

"I had a feeling you'd still be awake," Chakotay whispered, keeping his voice low in deference to the sleeping officers.

"What have you got to report?" Janeway impatiently requested.

Chakotay's eyes strayed to the instruments recording his Captain's status. Satisfied with what he saw, he said, "The Conslavtees have moved outside our scanning range. It's my guess they'll keep running till they reach their home planet."

"With any luck, you'll have scared them enough so they'll never return," Janeway thoughtfully observed. "We may have saved those poor people down there after all."

"Considering what they did to you, your concern for their well being is noteworthy."

"They were scared. From what you've told me about the Conslavtees, I can understand why."

Lowering his eyes, Chakotay shifted his feet, "My other piece of news isn't so good. B'Elanna reviewed the readings from your tricorders. There is dilithium in that mountain, but it's too dispersed to do us any good. It would take us years to mine it."

"It doesn't matter. Now that we know the planet's inhabited by a technologically inferior species, we can't take a chance of influencing their development more than we already have." Gently scratching the healing cut beneath her eye, Janeway pointed out, "In return for the crystals they'd probably want passage to a planet far away from the Conslavtees. That's a request the Prime Directive prohibits me from proffering."

"After reading your report of the conditions on that planet, I can't imagine that being slaves in a mine could be much worse."

A cough drew the officers attention. Jumping from her bed, Janeway hurried over the lone biobed at the far end of the room, "Welcome back, Tom."

"We made it," wonder filled the scratchy voice as the bright blue eyes scanned the darkened Sickbay.

"Thanks to your warning," Janeway acknowledged, gently laying a hand on a limp shoulder. "However, I would appreciate it if in future you would check with me before assuming my command."

Paris blushed and averted his eyes, "I'm sorry, Captain. There wasn't time to clear it with you. You know I couldn't let them take Harry."

"I know," Janeway relinquished, smiling to soften her features. "You might have a slight problem convincing Mr. Kim."

"Take it from one who knows, Captain. Words can only hurt when you know you're in the wrong. I wasn't," Paris confidently added, laying his head back and closing his eyes.

"You better get some sleep," Janeway advised, remembering the fire she's seen burning in Kim's eyes back on the shuttle. "The test to you theory is going to come all too soon."

Chakotay shook his head as he assisted his Captain back to her bed, "I have a feeling these fireworks are going to be even more interesting than the ones the Conslavtees threw at us."

"Just don't get too close," Janeway cautioned.


End file.
